


I hope that you burn

by The_Narrator



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Burn centric, Eliza is just done, F/M, First Burn inspired, I should probably fix this, One Shot, should I fix this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 06:50:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16035206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Narrator/pseuds/The_Narrator
Summary: A short one-shot fic about Eliza's reaction and her confrontation with Hamilton after the Reynold's Pamphlet; based on burn and first burn.





	I hope that you burn

**Author's Note:**

> All lyrics from Hamilton belong to the wonderful Lin-Manuel Miranda. I claim no ownership of them. This is just the product of my sleep deprived brain and my love for the musical, I apologize for any errors.

Eliza watched the fireplace come to life next to her, one hand clutching a copy of the pamphlet that had torn her world to shreds. She has spent most of the past few days struggling between heartbreak and righteous fury. She had refused to shed tears in front of the public, but in the solitude of her chambers, she was getting close to losing it again. Sitting down in the chair next to the fire, she took deep breaths and turned back to what, until a few days ago, was her most precious material possession: the collection of letters her Alexander had sent her, all carefully guarded, saved with care in a wooden box. What used to be carefully conserved paper, showing just the effects of her constant rereading was now stained with tears and crunched up from her rage. She took one last look at the paper, precious words that now seemed like nothing more than deception, and without a hint of indecision threw the first one into the fire.

The silence of the room was interrupted by the door opening. She didn't have to turn around to see who it was, she knew the sound of his footsteps almost better than her own. Could she even call him _her Alexander_ anymore? She could sense his indecision, and it amused her. A man so sure of himself, incapable of ever keeping his opinions to himself, now seemed to be speechless in her presence. She felt a small tug on her lips as an ironic almost smile formed on her face. He took a small step in her direction, then seemed to pause again, lightly clearing his throat to announce his presence. Eliza just watched the letter turn to ashes, still not looking at him, then glanced at the second page and threw it into the fire as well.

"I saved every letter you sent me, from the moment I saw you, I knew you were mine, you _said_ you were mine", she paused. "I thought you were mine." Her voice sounded leveler than she expected it to be. With a sigh, the third page joined the other two in the fire.

He seemed to regain some of his courage then, starting with a soft "Eliza". She didn't even dignify that with an answer.

"Do you know what Angelica said when I told her what you've done?" She continued and paused if only to see if he would attempt to say anything else. When he didn't, she continued. "She said 'You've married an Icarus, he's flown to close to the sun'" She chuckled, a small bitter sound. What an ironic talk that had been, all things considered, Angelica's first warnings still resonating in her ears.

He took another small step in her direction at that, she hoped his face showed some hint of remorse at this point. The Alex she knew would have, but she didn't _really_ know him all that well, _did she?_ She had defended him to everyone who had dared say anything. She had declared to anyone who would hear that her husband would be incapable of tainting his reputation, that he was such a proud and noble man that he would never dare betray her or his country in any way. She was convinced he would never stray, despite what the rumors surrounding him were. The anger started simmering inside her again at his attempt to get closer to her.

"Don't!", she said, her voice icier than it had ever been, "Don't take another step in my direction, I can't be trusted around you".

She finally turned around to face him. He looked tired, and apologetic, but the expression on his face giving away his intention of talking his way through this. The same determination in his eyes that he had when he was trying to outsmart his rivals and get his way. He tried to start talking again, probably some pre-rehearsed speech about how he never meant to hurt her, about how it was his only choice, nothing but some more pretty words meant to make himself look good and convince her that the heartbreak wasn't too bad. The man really had a gift with words, but she had had enough of that for an entire lifetime already. All the palaces she had built her with his words had come crumbling down after all. She raised her hand and interrupted his second attempt to say her name.

"Don't think you can talk your way into my arms, Alexander" She turned around to look at the fire again, staring at the ashes of the missives and with inner satisfaction fed two more pages to the fire. "I'm burning the letters you wrote me, you can stand over there if you want". She turned enough to look him in the eye. " _I really don't know who you are, do I?_ ", she took one look at the letter on the top of the pile, re-reading some of the lovely lines he had written for her. How could she have believed everything he said? Had she misread something? Were there signs she just had ignored in her delusions of love? She made a dismissing motion with her free hand, as if what was happening wasn't a big deal. "I really have so much to learn, don't I?, you can stand over there if you want".

From the corner of her eyes she could see him, standing there, his facial expression easier to read now. His eyes watching her as she re-read some lines and added more and more pages into the fire. He seemed almost heartbroken, the disbelief in his eyes drowning some of the pain. He seemed to compose himself a little by the fifth page, but she was determined to make him know a slight portion of the pain he had caused her.

"You published the letters she wrote to you", she saw him flinch at the mention of his indiscretion. "You told the whole world how you brought this girl into _our_ bed, in clearing your name, you have _ruined_ our lives, what did you think was going to happen?". She had read the paper he published, the nervousness and paranoia evident to her in every single line he had written.

She turned to face him again, his face no longer looking in her direction, but turned towards the floor in shame for the first time since he entered the room. She was trying to be the bigger person in the situation, the one strong enough to keep together whatever pieces of her life she could still salvage. But there was only so much she could do to reign in her pain. She had been the patient wife, the supporting role, the one he could vent to when things went wrong. She had tried to give him the best advice she could, she had been the model wife and mother, and his betrayal after his refusal to go with them upstate was just too much to handle. She wanted to hurt him, and she knew enough about him to tell him the harsh truths that he refused to see in himself.

"Heaven forbid someone whisper 'He's part of some scheme'" she mocked him, "your enemy whispers, so you have to scream". He flinched again at this, the shame in his face overwhelming his pride. With some twisted sense of satisfaction, she uttered the words she never expected to have to say out loud. "I know about whispers, I see how you look at my sister".

He looked up at her when he heard the last line. Eyes widening almost comically with shock, like he never expected her to know about that. It was almost funny, that he would think her naive enough to not realize what was happening right in front of her. Angelica may now her heart almost better than she did, but she had known from the very beginning that the thinly veiled jokes about sharing her husband meant more to her sister than she tried to let on. He tried to approach her again, probably ready to try and deny her accusations. She wouldn't let him have the satisfaction, she had the high ground in this argument, and she owed to herself to let out everything she had to endure and hold to herself for all those years.

"Don't", she repeated, "I'm not naive, I have seen women around you". Her voice breaking a little at the end.

She added more pages to the fire while trying to regain her strength. Her anger boiling so hard, it was getting harder and harder to control the angry tears forming in her eyes.

"Don't think I don't see how they fall for all your charms", the words feeling like poison in her tongue. She stared at the fire, mental images and memories of how almost every girl swooned for her husband, how he flirted back in front of her. She had always thought it innocent, just one more eccentric part of his personality. She had found comfort in the fact that only she held his heart and only she got to share his bed. How foolish she felt now, to have believed that.

A quiet "why?" reached her ears. She wasn't going to ask what he was referring to.

"I'm erasing myself from the narrative, the world has no right to my heart, they have no place in our bed, they don't get to know what I said", she answered with a small shrug. "Let future historians wonder how Eliza reacted when _you_ broke her heart, you have thrown it all away".

She took a deep breath, getting her bearings, glancing one last time at the last few pages in her hand. With one last sigh, she tossed all of them to the fire, and turned just in time to see the tears form in his eyes. "just stand back and watch it all burn. I'm burning the memories, the letters that _might have redeemed you_. You've forfeit all rights to my heart, you forfeit the place in our bed, go sleep in your office instead with only the memories of when you were mine".

She stepped away from the fireplace as Alexander almost tried to reach into it. It was too late to save anything, all his fancy words reduced to ashes and forever forgotten to the world. She was about to leave him to his misery, but her heart was still heavy, the unsaid words leaving her mouth almost without her consent as her husband stared into the flames.

"And when the time comes, explain to the children the pain and embarrassment, you put their mother through" She glanced at him, tears finally falling from his eyes. She approached him slowly, watching his eyes follow her movement. She placed her hand on his cheek, not as a warm gesture, but to make sure he was looking her in the eyes when she finally told him what she had always wished he would understand by himself.

"When will you learn, that they are your legacy?" She said quietly, pointing at the small family portrait next to them. "We are your legacy!" Tears were finally falling down her face too. Anger, heartbreak, betrayal, and disappointment finally getting the best of her. Neither of them had ever felt this raw, she was almost certain of this.

Her heart felt a little lighter now, although the pain and sadness were still like a torn on her side. 

She lowered her hand and turned around once more, taking a few steps towards the door. "If you thought you were mine...", she said, her voice calmer, but still sounding rougher than usual from crying. She took one last look at him, her expression hardened, and harshly said the last word she would speak to him for a long time before leaving the room.

"Don't".


End file.
